Understanding Us
by GlitterCyborgPrincess
Summary: A one-shot collection about Barba/Benson. Mostly Friendship until persuaded otherwise. Rated T for safety.
1. Not Liv

**Not Liv**

 **~I took some liberties with Heartfelt Passages because why not?~**

"I'm gonna to call Liv"

 _Breathe_.

I lean back into my chair with a groan and look to the ceiling. As if calling her would be a good idea-an _excellent_ idea, even. If it was urgent enough to call Liv I would have called her myself. I am capable of doing so, after all. But it's not urgent. Which is exactly why I called Rollins. Not Olivia.

She knows I was being threatened since yesterday in front of the court. She also knows that I told her that they (whoever they are) are just trying to distract the squad from their case by trying to get to them through me. Wasn't going to happen on my watch.

I. Am. Not. Worth. The. Trouble.

And yet here we are with Rollins calling the one person who did not need to be in the middle of this. Liv has her own problems and her own shit to get through. She doesn't need the distraction of... whatever this is. A rouse or play to distract me from my prosecution of Munson and convince me somehow to back off. Except whoever is orchestrating this obviously doesn't know me at all if they think I'm going to scare easily. I do not back off from a tough battle. It goes against everything I know and I-I will _not_ back down. Not until there's a bullet through my chest and until I take my last breath. Until then, it's all a game. And I do not plan on losing.

Amanda can hardly get a few words in before her lips purse together as she listens to her Lieutenant. The way the detective's eyebrows furrow together and I can tell something is wrong.

If the reputation of S.V.U. means anything, that something is probably really wrong. Catastrophically wrong. That's the only way the team knows how to work. If it's not easy and if it's possibly dangerous, their hands are all over it. And in turn, my hands also end up in the midst of whatever new screwup that seems to be sweeping New York City. When I started SVU I thought I would be dealing with people I knew I could put away in the same way it was in Brooklyn. Except now the bad guys aren't just your average obvious perps and they have the defense attorneys to prove it.

 _When did putting the bad guys away become so fucking complicated_?

"Yeah, I understand... Just stay-" Rollins pulls the phone from her ear and stares at the blank screen. "Safe," she finishes weakly. Doesn't even look away from the screen.

It takes all of about three seconds for Carisi to go all papa-bear and cross the room to the blonde who has still refused to look from her phone. Must be bad. "Amanda, everything alright? You didn't tell the Lieu about Barb-"

"Munson is holding Dodds hostage. He has a gun."

Her statement settles into the air of my office and I slam my hands down on my desk. Push myself to my feet and head to the door, opening it wide. "You guys go." They don't move, deciding instead to look at me as if I had a death wish. And perhaps I do. "I'll be fine. Promise."

Carisi opens his mouth in objection like he always does and I just let out sigh. "You'll have plenty of time to argue when you're an ADA yourself, Detective-now _go_. Protect your own." I wave my hand at the door. "And don't come back until Munson is back in custody."

When I repeat Munson's name it finally hits them how big of a problem this is. _Took them long enough._ They rush out the door with apologies and promises that they'll be back.

And then they're finally gone. I wander back to my desk and sink down into the soft leather of my chair. Take a moment to pull the scotch and glass out of my bottom drawer before burying my face into my hands and settling my elbows against my desk.

If my own attack happened any earlier the situation would have been different. Except Rollins would be calling to say that Munson killed his wife and then himself and _if they had only gotten there sooner._ Then it would all be different.

Which is exactly why I didn't call Liv.


	2. A Gift

**A Gift**

It _was_ supposed to be a joke.

Just a box I pushed into her hands when she gave me the good news about Noah's adoption going through. 'For Noah's big day,' I laughed before ushering her out of my office before Carmen could start getting another one of her wild ideas. The most I expected was a text later that night making fun of my gift choice. No such text. Maybe the joke was not as funny as I thought.

That was, until I stepped into Liv's apartment the day we were invited to celebrate the adoption.

I was the second one there. First if you take into consideration that Lucy is practically always at the apartment. I stopped cold in my tracks when she stepped from the kitchen with Noah in her arms. Lucy looked on, smiling. And my jaw dropped.

Noah. He wore the khaki overalls. And the striped polo. Even the patterned socks and shiny shoes. _The clothes that I had bought_.

My lips stretched into an unwitting smile and I carefully step forward. Unbelieving. But _oh so happy_. Despite my normal hesitance with children (the scars never truly fade, do they?) I treaded carefully toward the happy mother and child. "Hello, Noah," I whispered. "Looking good, hijo. Looking good."

Liv smiled, looking my own polo and khaki set up and down. An outfit I didn't put much thought into when I got ready to leave-but an outfit I was now very happy to have put on. Traditional suit would have been too much. "He learned from the best."

It was supposed to be a joke.

But this is so much better.

 **~Note: I'm more familiar with Mexican Spanish slang where family (like mine) will use mijo so I'm just using basic spanish instead and disclaiming any idea anyone may have that I understand Cuban Spanish slang.~**


End file.
